Mamaw Still Hates Nicole Kidman
by WillowVilya
Summary: Sequel. Title is irrelavent, still. PG-13 for excessive explicatives, as usual. Enjoy.


_Truth, Crazy Girls in Pajamas, Freedom, and Love_  
_(Mamaw Still Hates Nicole Kidman)_

Author's Note: Read Mamaw Hates Nicole Kidman first...trust us on this one.

Love,WillowVilya/Kaima

It had been a year to the day since Jano had been rescued from the clutches of Duke Tully the retarded and his grunting sidekick Tittles/Warner. Things were going more smoothly than they ever had. The play was still running, apparently it was a huge hit with the bohemian population. The original cast was on break, however, and other actors were taking their place in their absence.

"I want pickles and ice cream!" a shout came from Jano's bedchambers. "Christian, where ARE YOU?"

Christian came running in. "…what?"

"You heard me. I want pickles and ice cream."

Christian groaned and turned to leave towards the kitchen. Then he turned slowly back to Jano. "…no. No…no."

Jano sighed. "Yes Christian."

"No."

"Um…yes. While you're at it, you could bring me a bucket, because I think I'm gonna chunder."

'No."

"Saying that isn't going to change the fact I have a fetus in my womb."

"…no."

"Denying the fact you're going to have a child proves you're going to be a _great _father," Jano said with a grin.

* * *

Alana rolled over in bed. She was startled not to find Ray there. "I always wake up before him…" she muttered. She sat up in the bed and rubbed her eyes. "Where is that bastard…"

She was never at her best in the morning, but without her love machine it made it even worse. Alana struggled to rise and headed for the bathroom. There was an unpleasant sight awaiting her there.

Ray was clutching the porcelain throne and lying very still. Alana, not knowing what to do, RUSHED to his side.

"Ray…honey…are you okay?"

He looked up. "Hey, you're up."

"What are you doing in the floor?"

"Nothing, I'm fine…" he tried to get up, to no avail.

"No, no, just stay here." She patted his hair softly. "I'll fetch a doctor."

She ran as fast as she could out of the room. "Dammit, where am I going to find a doctor?" she muttered. "Maybe Jano will know."

Alana rushed to Jano's room and found it empty. "JANO!" she screamed.

"If you don't mind, I'm chundering," came a muffled voice.

She ran into the bathroom and found Jano clutching the porcelain throne as well. "NOT YOU TOO!" she shrieked.

Jano stopped dead in her chundering tracks. "You're pregnant?"

"No, but Raymond might be."

Jano looked at Alana like she was stupid. Which she was. "Honey, have you had the talk about the birds and the bees yet?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Alana was almost hysterical.

"Never mind," Jano sighed in exasperation. "Do you happen to have a bucket on you? Christian was supposed to bring me one but he didn't make it back in time…"

"Look, there are more important matters at hand!" Alana's eyes were tearing up. "Ray's sick and I don't know what's the matter with him, I need a doctor?"

"You too, eh?" a voice came from the bathroom door.

At the door stood Christian, a bucket, and a doctor. How convenient. "I need you more than she does!" Alana shrieked.

"That's very nice Alana, but I am married to her," Christian said calmly.

"Not you, you imbecile!" She took the doctor by the arm and dragged him down the hall to her own bathroom, where Ray was still clutching the toilet.

"What's wrong with him?" she cried hysterically.

"Well he's certainly not pregnant," the doctor said. "Leave me a minute for an examination."

Alana was about to protest, but instead turned slowly and headed for her bed. "Wait," the doctor said. "Bring Christian here. I need him to help me move him to the bed."

She nodded and walked down the hall into Jano's room once more. "Doctor needs you," she said quietly to Christian. "Needs you to help move Ray."

Christian had that 'she's lost her mind' look on his face. "Right…stay with Jano, then."

Alana was in no mood to argue anything anymore, which was saying something for the willful girl. She sat down on the bed next to Jano, where she had moved with her bucket.

"So," Jano said. "How are things?"

Alana looked at her, and shook her head in disgust.

"Fine, be that way," Jano muttered. "Do you think you could get me some pickles and ice cream?"

"…get it for yourself, bitch."

Jano grunted and got up and, bucket in hand, left the room.

In the hallway, Jano ran into Zidler. "…why do you have a bucket?" he asked.

"Everyone's so happy about it!" Jano said sarcastically. "Why don't I just abort?"

And with that, she stalked off.

Zidler turned to her as she left. "Was it something I said?"

No reply. Shrugging, he continued his _journey_ to find Rosie.

In Alana's room Christian was dragging Ray across the floor to his bed, and Ray was putting up quite a fight. Or just lying there…

Having him propped up, the Doctor had a chance to examine the very ill Raymond.

"It's a dire situation," the Doctor said after his examination. "From what I can tell, he's got pneumonia."

"Is he…" Christian began. "…going to die?"

The Doctor stared at Ray. "It can't be told in this stage of the disease. I can give him some medicine that should help; but then again it doesn't always. It's the best we've got."

Christian stared at the still form of his brother. "What should we tell Alana and the others, for now?"

"Tell them what he's got…if they ask for everything, tell them."

Christian nodded. The Doctor reached into a bag he had and pulled out a vial of dark liquid. "Give him some of this every morning, and before he goes to sleep at night. It's the best we can do."

"I hate this," Christian whispered. "First Satine, now you…"

* * *

Alana was lying down in Christian and Jano's bed. "I don't even want to think about what's been done on this bed…"

"Well sex, obviously, I am pregnant."

Jano had just returned with her pickles and ice cream in hand.

"I really don't want to think about you and Christian having sex."

"Well he's hot."

"Yes but you're like my sister. It's weird."

"Are you saying I'm not hot?"

"…yes."

"Get out of my room, bitch."

Alana smiled weakly. "Touchy pregnant woman."

Jano plopped down next to Alana and attacked her pickle with vicious ferocity. "Pace yourself for me, it's just gonna get worse from here on out," Jano warned.

"What?"

"Nothing…just something somebody told me…"

"You're a retard."

"…wanna pickle?" Jano said, holding out the remains of her pickle.

"Yes."

"Too fucking bad." Instead Jano gave Alana some of her ice cream, and she was mollified somewhat.

Christian walked in to find to two girls eating the most disgusting mix of food he'd ever seen. "Um…guys?"

They looked up, with that deer in the headlights look. "How is he?" Alana asked.

_Dammit, _Christian thought to himself. He sat down with the girls. "Well…he's got pneumonia."

"Is that bad?" Jano asked.

"Is that a form of aids?" Alana asked. Jano looked at her.

"Well, I have had sex with him…" Alana mumbled. "He is my husband and all…"

"He coughs a lot," Christian said. "The doctor said he's going to be aching a lot, and the coughing is going to get progressively worse."

"What do you mean?" Alana asked. "'Progressively worse'…until what?"

"That means...we don't know if he'll die or not."

Both girls gasped. "NO!" Alana shrieked, and ran from the room.

"ALANA!" Jano shrieked, and got up to run with her. Christian stopped her.

"Leave them be," he said in a choked up voice. "She needs some time…we don't need to waste what time they can have together."

Jano stopped, and looked up at Christian. She wrapped her arms around him. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course," he said, with absolutely no conviction in his voice. "I mean, everyone does it…"

"Oh Christian," she said, holding him tighter.

Alana made it to her room in about two seconds, and rushed to the bedside. "Raymond honey, how are you feeling?" she said through her tears.

He turned to look at her. "Hey there," he said softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I've been awake for a good few hours now," she said. "How are you feeling, silly?"

"Truthfully?"

She nodded.

"Like shit."

Alana crawled in bed next to him. "I'm sorry…"

"It's not your fault," he said, with a small cough. "Shit."

She cuddled up next to him. "You'll be okay," she said reassuringly.

"No I'm not. I'm going to fucking die."

Alana couldn't think of anything to say, so she held him tighter. Or began to, she decided it might not be a good idea with his lungs in such fragile condition.

"You are not," she whispered. "I can't go on without you."

"Of course you can," he said stubbornly. "You're a strong girl."

"What in the hell are you saying? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Alana said, tears flowing down her face. "Besides, you aren't going to die! DID YOU HEAR ME?"

Raymond laughed a little. "I don't think it works that way."

"Besides," Alana said between sobs, "Jano's having a baby! You'll be an uncle!"

"I'd make a horrible uncle. You know I hate children."

"I know," she whispered. "That's why we decided not to have any…"

He smiled. "Well if you really want to…"

Alana laughed through her tears. "Well if you promise not to die in the middle of it…" Just saying it made her burst into tears again. "God, it'd be the worst sex I'd ever had, I'd cry the entire time…"

"Am I that bad?" Ray asked.

"No, I'm probably terrible though," Alana said, "Or at least right now…"

"I was joking anyway…if you didn't figure that out." He gave a weak smile.

"Yeah…"

"Come on, we're GONNA PARTY!" Zidler burst into the room, followed closely by Toulouse and the other bohemians. Alana proceeds to almost crap herself. "We've got a BABY ON THE WAY!"

Alana and Ray just stared at them. "Zidler, are you pregnant?"

"No silly, Jano is!"

"We kinda knew that already," Ray said, still in amazement at the crowd in the doorway.

Alana took a deep breath. "Zidler, take your bohemians and go talk to Christian, and ask him what's going on right now. Okay?"

Zidler looked confused. "Okay…"

All looking baffled, Zidler and the bohemians shuffled out. They weren't forlorn for long however, farther down the hall they could be heard singing, "Come On Feel the Noise."

"Awkward, eh?" Ray grinned.

"Aye…would you like me to baby you?"

"…yes please."

* * *

Zidler and the bohemians had made it to Jano and Christian's quarters. Their singing abruptly stopped upon entry, with the couple looking quite teary-eyed and clinging to each other as if for dear life.

"…no party?" Zidler asked.

Christian looked to Zidler. "He's dying, you retard."

"Who, Toulouse?" Zidler said, looking back to the short man.

"What – NO!" Toulouse shouted.

"Ray, you imbecile!" Jano screamed.

There was silence.

The next few months passed quietly, but full of sorrow. Someone was always crying, and it could never be determined who would be doing so on which day. All in all, the Moulin Rouge was the most emo place one could be.

Ray's health was steadily deteriorating. They all tried to ignore this fact and hope for his recovery, but all were losing hope by the day. When he seemed he was past the point of return, they decided to take him back to where his family had moved, to Scotland.

"I don't want to fucking go to Scotland."

"Ray, honey, your family all lives there."

"I don't care. They're all stuck-up snobs anyway, and stubborn as hell."

"And you're not?"

"That's why we don't get along."

"We're going." Alana's voice was firm.

So they – being Alana, Ray, Christian, and Jano traveled to Scotland.

They showed up on their father's doorstep unannounced, which never turns out well. Alana was rolling Ray in a wheelchair. His slightly worried wife knocked on the door.

An old man with white hair and a long beard opened it. "Ah," he snorted. "My bohemian children. Did you pick up diseases in those hellish brothels?" He laughed.

"Actually father, I did," Ray said. "And now I'm going to die, and my loving wife thought it best to return me to my homeland. I really wish she wouldn't have, because you're a douche, but I guess every rose has its thorn."

The father laughed again, with a tinge of sadness. "That's me boy," he said, grabbing the wheelchair from Alana with a suspicious glare. He turned to his other son. "Is that your can-can dancer?"

"Actually, she's a double-bassist," Christian said with a little shrug. "Tried to get her to be a can-can dancer, and she actually was in a play."

"At least she's fertile," he said, looking to her stomach. "How long till I have a grandkid?"

"Oh, I'm aborting," Jano said pleasantly.

"WHAT?!?"

"…and I'm a man."

The father looked at Jano with a weird glint in his eye. "I like you. Christian, you did well. I don't know about you Ray, I haven't heard much from your bitch."

"Fuck you," Alana spat.

"Never mind."

They entered to find themselves in a spacious kitchen. Whom they figured to be Christian's mother was cooking something at the stove. "Honey, why'd you let the whores in? I barely got the place cleaned up from last time!"

"These are the whores are sons have married," he said gruffly. "One of 'em's caught a disease, it's called pregnancy…"

"Our sons or their whores?"

"The latter."

"…ah."

"Yeah, totally forget the fact I'm dying here," Raymond rolled his eyes.

"Did she give you some underworld disease?"

"If you consider pneumonia an underworld disease."

His mother turned it to Jano. "So I guess you're the pregnant one?"

"No, I'm normally this size."

"She's got spunk," his mother said approvingly.

Jano was quiet a minute, and then whispered something into Christian's ear.

"What?!?!?!?"

She sighed and whispered it again.

"Church, honey."

"Ah. So Mrs. Church…why did you name your son Christian, if you knew people would giggle so much at the irony of it?"

"…it was kinda funny at the time. I was drunk."

"Shoulda named Ray Lutheran."

"Very funny," said Ray from his chair. "Can we focus on me? Can't you see I'm DYING HERE?"

"Well aren't we all, really?" said Mrs. Church philosophically, whilst cutting meat with a sharp knife.

Ray pouted about this a little.

"Well fine then," said Mr. Church. "How long you got?"

"I wouldn't say longer than a month or so," Ray said, shrugging.

"Do you want to use your brothers coffin? We figured he'd die first, when he moved to Montmarte…"

"I resent that," Christian muttered.

"It was a joke, dumbfuck," Mr. Church said.

Christian glared at him. "Motherfucker."

"Why yes….if I wasn't impotent by now!"

Alana was shaking like a little chihuahua in the corner, she was laughing so hard. "You guys…are fucked up…"

"Took you awhile to notice that there, dearie," said Mrs. Church. "Now if you'd all sit down at the table, we might get to eat."

They proceeded to all sit at the large table in the dining room. "Why are there so many chairs?" Alana whispered to Ray.

As if on cue, a bell was clanged in the other room. A throng of teenagers entered and sat at the table with them. Alana looked to Ray in awe.

"They were busy…"

Ray was pointing out all of them. "The one with the long hair is Roberta, we call her Bob, the one with the close cropped hair is Robert, also Bob, the one with the mole is Bobby, or Bob, and the ugly girl is Barbara Ann, but we call her Bob because otherwise we end up rolling the 'r' in Barbara."

Alana was kind of apprehensive. "I married into one screwed up family…"

"Can't you take a joke?" said the one Ray had introduced as Roberta. "None of us are named Bob. It's a fucking ridiculous name, aye?" She held out her hand. "I'm Hannah."

"Hi," Alana grunted, taking the hand…and keeping it. Hannah turned to Raymond, she seemed to be the eldest of the throng.

"So…I hear your dying." She said as if stating the weather, which was shitty.

"Why yes, I am." Raymond said, finally glad for some notice. He had already planned a speech on the pain and disgust of the disease, but Hannah had left and taken a seat at the opposite end of the table. "Damnit." Ray said simply.

Many platefuls of food and drink were passed about the table, mostly consisting of Haggis and strong ale. It was indeed true that the Church family much enjoyed the Scottish way of life, compared to the industrial stuffy proper lives they had formerly lived in bloody dreary England. The chatter was lively and filled with many explicatives as well as song verse. Jano was sitting amidst the teens in a rousing rendition of 'Loch Lomond'. Mr. and Mrs. Church rose from the head of the table with their glasses in the air.

"To the foggy old bastard in the wheelchair." They said triumphantly, "We miss you."

Ray rose slightly. " I am not fucking dead yet!" Much laughter did carry throughout the dinner table.

"Oh." They both looked at each other. "Yeah, well sorry about that." His oh-so-loving parents sat back down cackling to themselves, and Raymond smiled at bit to himself. It was a lot less emo around here.

"All right," said Hannah. "We all know Ray's been dying to tell us how much it sucks to be him, so I think we give him a chance to speak."

Ray cleared his throat. "I get about two hours of sleep a night. The rest of the night I spend coughing. I can't walk anymore. I want to fucking die and get it over with. Life sucks."

"Least you're not impotent," Mr. Church said sullenly.

"Well we've never tried to have a baby," Ray shrugged. "But we've had loads of sex."

"You just _had _to brag, didn't you?" said Mr. Church.

"…yes."

Ray grinned and began to take another bite, but began coughing in the middle of it. "Shitfire," could be heard amidst the tearing coughs.

"Honey are you okay?" Alana asked.

"No."

He kept coughing. Alana held his hand, knowing she could do nothing. Her eyes teared up, and she looked around to see the same response from the rest of the family, no matter how uncaring they had seemed to be. "Ray…" she whispered.

Ray began to cough up blood, and Alana handed him a napkin. "One thing," Ray managed to get out.

"Anything, dear."

"…you never told me you loved me."

Alana was taken aback. "I haven't? Surely I have! I know it…I know it…I must've…"

But thinking back, she could not remember a single time.

Ray looked at her pleadingly.

Alana gulped. "I love you honey…" she said, taking his hand once more. "I love you so much…"

Ray nodded. "I know…"

He coughed some more. "I love you too…"

The coughing was persistent, and was his worst yet. Alana was crying freely, and couldn't stop if she had wanted to. But then suddenly, it stopped, and he was heard no more.

Alana shook violently as she stared at his still body. "It's over…"

No one spoke for a long time after that.

* * *

They held the funeral two days from then, and buried him in the family cemetery. They had gotten the word out to as many of Ray's acquaintances as they could, but very few were able to come, considering most of them lived in England. They did manage to get one of his friends that had gone through training with him to learn how to direct a band. His name was Ewan.

Alana was very torn up at the funeral, but tried to talk to as many of Ray's friends as she could. She went to Ewan last, seeing as how he seemed as torn up as she did.

"He was my best friend…" Ewan said, in a slightly shaky voice. "I hadn't seen him in a very long time though…I didn't even know he was married."

Alana nodded. "It came as a shock to us all when he came down with the disease."

"I must ask you something, though," said Ewan. "Do you have anyone to fill Ray's place at the Moulin Rouge, as the band director?"

"Well, I usually helped, but a lot of times we alternated. I suppose an alternate would be nice to have for emergencies and such."

"Do you think I could? I have the same training as he did, and would love to visit Paris."

Alana nodded. "Well I'll have to talk to Zidler, but I'm sure that'd be all right." Alana was not quite ready to be talking about replacing Ray, and was somewhat offended by this Ewan's upfrontness. She was saved from being rude by one of the members of the band.

"We need you now." A small man named Keebler said and walked back to his position in the troupe. She walked in front of the musicians and began to conduct. A choir of boys borrowed from a nearby church began to sing.

_My hands are tied  
My body bruised, she's got me with  
Nothing to win and  
Nothing left to lose_

_And you give yourself away  
And you give yourself away  
And you give  
And you give  
And you give yourself away_

_With or without you  
With or without you  
I can't live  
With or without you_

And there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

* * *

Before long, they all had to pick up their lives and go back to France. Alana found herself physically incapable to conduct, without breaking down in the middle of song. So before long, she ended up writing a letter…she had gotten Ewan's address before leaving Scotland, and wrote him:

_Mr. McGregor,_

_It would be much appreciated if you could come out in assist in the conducting duties at the Moulin Rouge. I am taking a well-needed break from work, so you would be working full time. The pay is quite handsome. Please consider it._

_Sincerely,_

_Alana Church_

In a few weeks, the Scotsman showed up, and business continued as usual at the Moulin Rouge, though with a terrible emptiness that could not be filled.

Jano was nine months pregnant. This was an unhappy time for all involved. She was becoming quite testy, and demanded more and more pickles as time progressed. She was also roughly the size of a whale.

The morning came when Jano was the most irritable of all. She had demanded upon her waking a jar of pickles, ranch dressing, chocolate, and salt. Christian was becoming quite fed up but out of love for his wife, did not complain. Then the moment came.

"OH MY GOD I'M HAVING A BABY!"

Christian looked confused. "Yes dear, we've known this for a long time now."

"NO I'M HAVING IT NOWWWWWWWWWW!"

Christian looked around, baffled. "Um, yes, well then…spread your legs."

"THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL YOU'RE DELIVERING IT! GET THE DOCTOR!"

He nodded, and rushed out of the room. He found Zidler first, in Rosie Secrets' quarters, as always.

"Where's the doctor?" he asked breathlessly.

"Why?"

"I'm having a baby!"

"…right…" Zidler gave him a peculiar look. "2nd floor, 3rd door on the right."

Christian immediately headed there, grabbed the doctor by the arm, and dragged him to their room.

Ten painful hours of labor later, a beautiful baby boy was born. They named him Ray Charles Church. And of course, after cleaning up the bedroom and clothing mother and child, many many peoples filtered in. Even Nini.

"That's not a bohemian name." Muttered the narcoleptic Argentinean, from his place in the room. Seems the whole Moulin Rouge was in attendance, not exactly a premier party if you ask me. Alana, who had paused her mourning to show up, replied.

"You don't know, he could one day be a famous black musician."

"He isn't black. Unless there is something in Christian' family tree previously unmentioned." Chocolate grinned and muttered something along the lines of 'Jungle Fever'. The Argentinean couldn't reply, since he passed out.

Zidler was prancing about the room like a happy grandpa. Zidler was indeed a crazy man. Marie, who had been midwife to the birthing, slapped him. Toulouse and Christian were the ones closest to the bed.

"Hey.." murmured Jano.

"Yes?" Christian asked mildly.

"You know a couple of hours ago when I was screaming for you to burn in hell and be ass-raped by Satan and to 'die pig die'?"

"…yes…"

"I didn't mean that."

"I know." Christian smiled, kissing her softly on the forehead.

Soon the festivities cleared, after a while Jano had been tired of all the chatter and threatened to kill a couple of people, including two of the multiple godparents, Toulouse and Rosie, especially that sassy Rosie. Alana was the last to leave.

"So…" she said. "I don't get to be a godmother, do I?"

"Very funny," said Jano, grinning. "I had something pass through my vagina!"

"Yes, yes you did."

"Oh and if I screamed at you during the birthing process I'm sorry."

"I came in at one point and you told me to go fuck Toulouse. But after I left…what was all that commotion I heard about 'fuck the police'?"

"…I had run out of things to yell."

"Ah. Well, I think I'll be going back to the tower now…"

"Alana, stop," Jano said pleadingly. "Don't live there. Atrocities have been committed there. I don't understand why you've been living there."

Alana shrugged. "Neither do I, but I know there's absolutely no living in our old room."

"There are plenty of other guest rooms to live in! Stay in one of them!"

"Maybe," Alana didn't seem convinced.

"Just think about it," Jano said. "Please."

"All right," she said. She patted Ray on the head. "Bye sweetie."

Alana opened the door to leave.

"Wait!" Jano took a deep breath. "Alana, do you believe in life after love?"

She sighed. "I can feel something inside me say, I really don't think I'm strong enough. So no." With that, she left.

Christian came back into the room at that point and picked up Ray. "He's a cute little bugger, isn't he?"

Jano nodded. "What are we going to do about Alana?"

Christian smiled. "I thought it'd be obvious, dear. The same thing she did to us."

"You mean, cast her as Satine?"

"No, no quite. I think she would catch onto that."

"But isn't it a bit early?"

"I don't think there is a time limit on suffering."

"That's a terribly good point." She thought for a moment, "But what can we do?"

"I had no mother-fucking idea." He grinned sadly, laying Ray down between them in the bed.

"Don't say fucking in front of him."

"You just did." He pointed out.

"Damnit."

"Don't say damnit in front of him" Christian mocked her.

"I am allowed to say whatever I want."

"Why can't I?"

"Because you are not the one letting someone eat out of your bosom."

* * *

Alana slowly made her way back to the creepy dirty old tower she now resided in. Its dank furnishings mimicked her inner turmoil. She couldn't go back to her old quarters in the Moulin Rouge.

As she lay on the dusty, unused bed, her mind began sinking back to where it had previously left off with its thoughts on Raymond - old conversations, laughter, tears, his final days. All this anguish was aggravating her, Alana got up and picked the candelabra off the table nearby and flung it at the wall. A satisfying sound it made, its dull ring echoed through the room. She hadn't noticed there was a soft knocking at her door.

"Um…who is it?"

"It's Ewan, Mrs. Church."

Never been called 'Mrs.' before."

"Come in."

He walked inside, his dark hair tumbling untidily over his deep blue eyes. It was amazing how much he looked like Christian sometimes. "The other…Mr. And Mrs. Church…wanted you to give me some pointers. They say I'm not conducting the same you are."

"What song are they most concerned about?" Alana asked.

"The love medley."

_Fuck. _"Okay. Conduct it."

"Um…it's hard to do without music."

"Well, is the band practicing right now?"

"Yes."

"Let's go enslave them, then."

Ewan grinned. "Okay, Mrs. Church."

"It's Alana. Mrs. Church makes me feel like Christian's mother." She deliberately avoided saying 'Ray's mother.'

They walked down to the Moulin Rouge and entered the stage area. There they all were. Alana hadn't seen them in ages. Rosie…Marcus, with the nipple hickey fetish…

"All right bitches!" Alana said, assuming the tone she usually took with them. "Love medley. One, two, ready, and – "

She began conducting, and they began playing. Ewan walked up next to her and tried to mimic her. "Like this?" he asked.

"No, like – " She walked up behind his and moved his arms for him. "And make it more flowing – like you're homosexual."

"I HEARD THAT!" Rosie stopped playing and shouted.

"PLAY YOUR FLUTE, BITCH!" Alana screamed. She watched Ewan conduct. "Yeah, that's much better."

She stopped to let him take over, commenting every now and again.

"No no no…You need to be more…" She could quite describe it, for a moment she was thinking 'jedi-ish' but she didn't think it was an actual word, so decided against it.

"Erm…forceful. Like your kicking the music out of their sorry asses." He stopped.

"Am I supposed to be doing this as well as try to be the soft glittery homosexual?"

"Homosexuals aren't soft, they're bitches." Rosie piped up impishly.

"Fuck the shut up, Eric." Alana spat.

"Don't call me that name!" Rosie hissed. Ewan began to laugh hysterically.

"I don't see anything funny." Alana said folding her arms. "You have to control this band by their balls. Dig in with your nails. Bite hard upon the nipple of their talent!" He was practically rolling in the floor by now and a smile crept up the sides of her face.

"Okay, maybe it was a little funny," Alana admitted sheepishly. "But only a little!"

Ewan was still rolling in the floor.

"YOU GET UP HERE AND CONDUCT, BITCH!" Alana tackled him and began giggling insanely. She finally managed to get him up and conducting in front of the band.

"You really have a large talent," she said mildly at the close of the song.

Ewan blushed. "Why thank you."

"Nothing funny…I just like talent," Alana grinned. "I guess you want me to come and help you again tomorrow, don't you?"

"Well I could probably handle it – "

"That's right. I'll be here – when does practice start?"

"At ten."

"I'll be here then," Alana smiled. "Off to find me a guest room!"

And cackling to herself, she ran off to the upper levels of the Moulin Rouge.

Christian and Jano stepped out from the shadows. Jano patted Ewan on the back.

"Excellent job my friend, excellent job."

"Do you think she likes me?"

"She loves you honey. Don't worry in the slightest."

* * *

Jano and Christian returned to their bedroom, and Jano began, unsuccessfully, trying to change a diaper.

"His penis keeps getting in the way!"

"Well, he kind of needs that, dear."

"Not that bad! How am I supposed to wipe his ass with it staring me in the face?"

Christian stood up. "This looks like a job for daddy."

Jano went and laid down in the bed in disgust. "Babies suck."

"Oh, you love it." He chuckled at her.

"Yes…I am utterly gaa-gaa for baby feces. Mmm mmm." She muttered.

"I don't see why you are having trouble today with this, you were fine yesterday."

"Maybe I just didn't voice it yesterday or the day before or ever."

"Aw…are you frightened of his genitalia?"

"…yes…" She muttered taking wee little Ray from Christian and holding him. "Oh you're much more pleasant clothed, yes you are." She cooed. She played with him for a while.

"Okay. I guess we can keep him."

* * *

Alana just couldn't decide. These rooms were all so, whorish. _Well…this is the Moulin Rouge…_

Finally she found something she could live with. A small, old room in the back of the servant's hallway. It was simplistic containing a bed, chest, and side table with lamp. Off to the side there was a doorway leading to a bathroom with tub and sink and of course the required toilet. It would work well.

She marked her territory by pissing along the outer doorway, like Mamaw sometimes does to mark food…

(okay that didn't really happen)

She ran to Zidler and claimed it as her own. Once finding Chocolate, he helped Alana drag her things into the little room. After Chocolate left she pushed the entire pile into a corner of the room, she didn't want to sift through all her painful memories just yet, it was the perfect time to test out the tub.

Alana filled it and poured lots of smelly bubbly things into it. "It's been forever since I've bathed…" she said to herself. "Depressed people usually don't bathe too often…"

She disrobed herself and climbed in. "This is nice…almost orgasmiicccccc….."

Looking around, she noticed something. "And I can leave the bathroom door open, cause I live alone…life rocks."

Humming, "Baby Got Back" in E Minor, she proceeded to cleanse herself. The humming soon changed to singing, so that she did not hear her front door open…

All of a sudden, Ewan appeared in the bathroom door in a French maid outfit. He screamed fitfully.

"Alana! I had no idea you lived here!"

"Well I didn't, until tonight," she said, freaking a bit. "Why….do I even have to ask?"

"Um...Zidler didn't have any other clothes to give me to wear, and I took on the job as the maid."

"You shouldn't need a second job, being the conductor pays really well."

"Zidler's paying me half what you get. Says it's until I get everything under control."

"Ah. Do you realizing we're talking while you're in a maid outfit and I'm in the tub?"

"Well it's not like I can see anything, the bubbles were covering everything up."

"…were you _trying _to see something?"

"uh….better go get to the other rooms now," Ewan said quickly, and left.

Alana laughed in spite of herself, then leaned back in the tub. "I'm such a whore," she said aloud. "I can't believe I'm betraying him…even in my thoughts…and so soon…"

She started crying a little. "Why, oh why, do I have to be an emo kid?"

Christian lay in bed, next to Jano, who was next to the bassinet that they had constructed for baby Ray. He was thinking about Alana and Ewan.

I know what she's thinking right now.  
She's thinking the same thing I was.

_I hope she comes to the same conclusion I did…_

He rolled over to Jano, who had her eyes open and was staring at the ceiling.

"Hey there," he whispered.

"Hey," Jano replied.

Christian leaned in to kiss her and tried to get frisky. Jano grunted.

"If you so much as think of my vagina right now I might have to kill you."

"…sorry."

* * *

The next morning promptly at ten o' clock Alana showed up at the stage. Ewan was letting the band tune and such. She walked up next to him.

"IwanttoapologizeforflirtingwithyoutheothernightIshouldn'tbebetrayingRayorgettingyourhopesupeventhoughyouareaveryfinemansoIjustwantedtosaysorryandIhopewecanstillbefriends," Alana said quickly.

Ewan blinked. "Were you flirting?"

"Yes I was," she said, a little less fast. "And I'm sorry and I'll never do it again I promise."

"I don't think I'd like that very much," said Ewan softly.

"But I must because of Ray and I'm sorry!" Alana fled from the room.

Ewan stared blankly in the direction of which she ran. "Well shit." Rosie was behind him.

"It wasn't you fault." She said oddly serious, "She's gone temporarily mad."

"Thanks, Rosie." Ewan smiled.

"Don't get frisky boy, you're not my type."

"Ew…"

* * *

Alana scurried instead of rushed into her room, collapsing on the bed in a fit of explicatives.Fuckshitdamnitfuckingamotherduckfuckingshittlesfucketyfuck 

She soon noticed that this didn't help at all. She felt so guilty, so lonely, so at a loss of mental clarity.

What the FUCK am I supposed to do? 

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do."

Alana whirled around, searching for the unseen voice. "For one, I thought I didn't say that out loud, two, who's in here?"

"Me." Rosie Secrets stepped out from behind a curtain.

"Dammit you're creepy."

"I know." He/She sat next to Alana on the bed. "He could love you."

"I know," Alana said miserably.

"You could love him."

"I know," she said, even more miserably.

"Well if you get down to the heart of the matter," Rosie began, "Ray would not want you to spend the rest of your life moping, and this Ewan is a fine piece of ass. If you don't claim him I might."

Alana stared at Rosie in horror.

"Well, not really."

"You like Zidler, and you don't like Ewan?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Zidler's married. Provides for a bit of scandal."

"Sick bastard."

"Bitch, baby."

Alana shuddered. "You know what? I will go after him. Because I really like him. And everything's gonna be okay."

"That's the spirit," said the funny gay man in drag.

"Thanks Eric."

"…it's Rosie."

"One more thing." Alana paused, "If you ever quote a _Heart of the Matter _lyric again. I will kill you."

* * *

"No…You can't come in." Jano was trying in vain to keep Christian out of the bathroom.

"You don't have to hide…"

"Yes, I do."

"You're just feeding him," he laughed, finally getting in the bathroom.

"It feels like I'm cheating on you somehow," she mumbled.

"Well, as long as things don't progress, I won't mind." She smiled at him.

"I promise to aggressively make-out with you later."

* * *

After Rosie was safely out of range, Alana ran out of her bedroom and searched for Ewan. He was running towards her bedroom.

They met in the middle of the hallway, and Alana firmly shoved her face against his, smothering him with kisses. "Well this works," Ewan said in a muffled tone.

"That's right beeyotch," Alana said, also muffled.

Neither noticed Rosie watching behind a gaudy statue in the corner, smiling to him/herself.

"Wuv you Ewan."

"Wuv you 'Lana."

Alana finally managed to tear herself away from the magnificent piece of ass. "I am a bit frightened though…"

"Why is that?"

"Well if I start seeing men in wheelchairs haunting me I just might kill myself."

"In that case, let's see if we can find a way to keep your eyes shut," Ewan said ever-so-huskily and the kissing resumed.

Indeed it was a good ending. This is France, after all.

FIN


End file.
